“Now why didn’t I get a noise like that out of you?” Domino grins as he looks over before gesturing for me to enter a room set up with smaller chairs as if it’s a dining hall. The food’s spread out on a table by the back wall, and a door to the left is open enough for me to seethe kitchen behind. They might have ordered out, but they clearly don’t have to.
“Dude, don’t tell me I need to offer you some pointers,” Lucky teases as he grabs three sandwiches and makes his way to an empty table.
“Trust me, he doesn’t need the help,” I mutter just loud enough to cause them all to chuckle.
Domino shoots me a wink as he grabs a sandwich for himself and another for me. I might not swoon after a stalker, but a boy making my plate up and getting me food? Yeah, that’s swoon worthy. When he hands it to me, I grab his vest just enough to prevent him from walking away before planting a kiss on his lips. It’s not a long one—well, long enough for minimal tongue touching—before I let go with a “Thank you.”
We all settle into our food, and like me, it seems no one’s in a rush to talk about what they found. Got a feeling I’m not going to be thrilled about it. I mean, if it was good news, like “we caught your stalker,” I’m pretty sure they would have told me by now. Since everyone’s just chowing away, I gather it isn’t something to talk about without losing your appetite.
I finish my sandwich before my drink shows, but I’m not mad. It gives me time to enjoy it like the real treat it is. Unlike Domino, who chugs his coffee the second he gets it. Doesn’t even wait for it to cool off first. I’m not sure what the fancy part of it is all about if he’s not even going to savor it.
And from the way I’m looking at him, he must understand my confusion. “Need the caffeine. But that doesn’t mean I need to hate the taste of it as I drink it.”
“But did you even taste it?” I ask. Because there’s no way you can taste something and enjoy it as fast as he consumed it.
He leans close and whispers next to my ear, “Not as much as the taste of your pussy, but it’ll do in a pinch.”
I feel my face warm as I take a sip of my drink, ignoring the smirks from the guys around us. They might not haveheard what he said, but they can probably guess the general idea of it.
Domino gives me a half grin before leaning back in his chair and losing the smile as he looks to his men. “What’ve you got?”
Mickey leans to the side and calls out, “Oy.” I turn and see the others in the room look at him. “Closed room.”
Like a freaking call to war, every single one gets up, picks up their things, and walks out. The last one even shuts the door behind him.
“Must be good to be king,” I mutter once again to Domino.
He shrugs. “Has its perks. I also like to get the info before most of my men know, so I can make a plan without them thinking they know what’s best.”
I get it, I really do. But still, it’s a nice flex to be able to clear a room with just a few words spoken by someone who I see Domino looks to for a lot of things. Maybe not advice, but to get things done. Him and the other three men who I’m now left in the room with. At least there’s food still. It’s the only thing I really care about anyway.
Well, other than Domino. I care about him. Not sure what all my feelings are yet, but I know this is more than just a onetime thing.
“The driver’s dead.”
I spit out my drink at the way Rooster just says it like that, like he’s talking about the weather. Thankfully, it’s only a few dribbles. I hate wasting the stuff, but come on.
“And a fighter.” This from Bane, and my eyes go wide.
“Who?” I haven’t heard a thing. Sure, we generally don’t have get-togethers or anything, but the fighter community is pretty small.
“Inga Sokolov. Goes by the name—”
“Dozer,” I whisper. Lucky nods, and Domino looks at me for more details. “She was the one I fought that night, before I got drugged.” I shake my head in confusion. “I don’t get it. We’ve fought a few times before. Why kill her? Could it be unrelated?”
Mickey shrugs. “Maybe. It was a hit-and-run. Unlike the driver, who was found with a bag over his head in the same limo he dropped you off in.”
I shudder at the imagery.
“We sure they’re linked to the stalker?” Domino tilts his head as he takes it all in.
Bane shakes his head, and the others shrug in some way.
“It’s what we got right now,” Bane says. “But it’s a hell of a coincidence that two of the three who were part of that night are connected to Viv and are dead.”
“What about the other guy?” I ask.
The men eye one another, but no one says anything till I look at Domino. Straight-faced, there’s no shrug or playfulness from him. “He was taught a lesson. One he won’t be making again.”
